Future Generations

Proudly (yes, proudly!) passing on our infertility experience

“This possibility was never mentioned” my husband would often mutter in the days and months after we lost our children. Shaking his head, he would go on to point out that the fact some of us do not get to have children is nowhere in our collective human conversation. Instead, both of our childhoods, despite their drastic differences nationally, socio economically, and educationally (He’s from El Salvador) were strewn with the same verbal presumptions: “one day when you have kids”, “you can show your kids some day” and “I wonder what your kids will be like” to name a few. Notably missing: a nod to the not as unlikely as you’d think possibility this having kids thing might not get to be. (more…)

My Question and FB Post of the Day

Right now, I have only one question.

Yes, normally I’m perplexed by society’s indifference to early child losses, especially when coupled with all of the mommy mania out there. I think what many might label as “serious thoughts” about the hows and whys of life, or more so lately the lack thereof. I’ve been accused of being too long winded, too divergent, too intense. I’m down with mindfulness and feeling every nook and cranny of my emotions, especially the taboo ones.

But right now, I ponder only this:

Given that I’m an involuntarily childless infertility survivor going through my second Mother’s Day without my children, at what time should I start drinking?

I don’t ask much from you, my dear readers, but I could really use your input on this. The absence of script for this kind of life is really getting to me.

So whadaya think? Noon too early?

I’ve got a nice bottle of rose champagne (a gift for my b-day back in Feb) that needs some attention. Granted, I feel anyone who has lost their children should be bathing in the shit instead, but alas I’ll be drinking it.

Yes, the glass DOES say "sometimes yoga just isn't enough".  You read correctly.

Yes, the glass DOES say “sometimes yoga just isn’t enough”. You read correctly.

Yeah I get it – there are more noble things I could be doing on this not so fine day. Feeling my feelings as I did last year, reaching out to others and yada yada yada. It just so happens that not giving a shit is something I’m also able do quite well every now and then.

What about 11:00 am? Any opinions?

I leave you with my Facebook post for the day. I pretty much never post on Facebook. I’ve made no bones about the fact that avoiding humans has been one of my tickets to surviving infertility. But I might actually be peeking out from under my rock.

under-a-rock

I said might.

So rather than re-emerge on FB (otherwise known as the fiery depths of hell in IF circles) with a benign comment about the weather, or some fake holiday oriented cordiality, as a more intelligent person would do, I threw down this instead:

On this day that is still shamelessly embalmed in the exclusion of so many, I pass on this quote:

“I believe that in the same way we need species diversity to ensure that the planet can go on, so we need this diversity of affection and diversity of family in order to strengthen the ecosphere of kindness.”
Andrew Solomon

On this day I grieve.

And on this day, to all of the aunts and stepmothers, to all moms of alpha pregnancies, moms of miscarried pregnancies and stillborns, to everyone who participates in the welfare of children, child free by choice people who contribute greatly to this world, and every person without children who has relentlessly nurtured me throughout my adulthood, to people who have lost their potential children to tragic and unfortunate circumstance, to all my fellow brothers and sisters in loss and especially to every parent without children out there for whom I know all too well how hard this day is, I salute you. My infertility survivor child free not by choice family of two salutes you all.

Oh, did I mention I practically have no friends since I’m never on FB?  So that whole heart outpouring was for like 13 people.  I’m a genius.